


Breaking Up and Making Up

by Call_Me_Kayyyyy (Cheeky9274), chilibabie07



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (only for a few paragraphs and nothing graphic), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Crying, Embedded Fanart, Exes to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fanart, Getting Back Together, M/M, Many tears have been shed, Mentions of alcohol, Post-Break Up, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Top Bucky Barnes, by the characters and the author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25282780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheeky9274/pseuds/Call_Me_Kayyyyy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/chilibabie07/pseuds/chilibabie07
Summary: So, in a spontaneous decision, he took a quick shower, dressed in something other than oversized hoodies and sweatpants, and left his house, determined to sit in a bar for at least 30 minutes before he would go back home.That’s how he ended up in The Tipsy Cow, nursing his beer in the back, staring at Steve.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 21
Kudos: 213
Collections: Marvel Undercover 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bangyababy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangyababy/gifts).



> This was written for the Marvel Undercover 2020 Fest. 
> 
> Prompter was the wonderful bangyababy, the prompt #S62 was the song "Grow As We Go" by Ben Platt. I had so much fun writing this and even was able to collab with an artist who made such a lovely art and banner for this. Thank you so much for wanting to collab, I really loved it! 
> 
> Bar name is courtesy of one of my lovely betas.
> 
> Many thanks to my two betas for helping with this fic. I love you two, without you this wouldn't be as good as it is now.
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy reading!

It is probably fate, Bucky thinks, as he sits in a booth at the back of the bar, one hand holding onto the bottle of cheap beer he ordered. He glances across the room, eyes fixed on the man at the other end. When Bucky decided to go out for the night, he made himself promise to stay at least for an hour. Just sit there, drink a beer or two, and listen to the music. His friends have been bugging him ever since his breakup to go out and enjoy being single again. Instead Bucky spent weeks throwing himself into his work at Stark Industries, getting there early and leaving late. On some days he even skipped his lunch break.

For weeks after the breakup his life consisted of only work, eat, sleep and repeat. He didn’t go out with his friends, no matter how often they asked. Logically he knows that moping at his apartment isn’t gonna be helpful in any way, but he also couldn’t bring himself to pretend he was okay and go about his life as if nothing happened. 

If Bucky is honest, the breakup really fucked him up. Before, he was happy, he thought his life was perfect, he thought they could have a future, but after? After, Bucky drowned his feelings in ice cream, watched a lot of cheesy rom-coms, and cried himself to sleep more often than not. He moved all pictures of him and Steve from his phone to his laptop and saved them in a folder labeled _‘don’t even think about it’_. He took off all framed pictures and stuffed them into a box which now resides in the darkest and dustiest part of his closet. 

Out of sight, out of the mind, the saying goes. Only Bucky can now confirm that this isn’t true. Just because he buried all framed photos in his closet and all phone pictures in a folder he won’t even go near, doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about Steve. He does. Every night when he goes to sleep he misses the warm weight of another body in his bed. He misses cuddling with Steve, pulling him tight against his chest. He always marveled at the fact that despite being the same height as Bucky and nearly as beefy, Steve always managed to curl himself into a small ball and cuddle up under Bucky’s chin. 

Some nights he would spoon Bucky, pull him back against his chest, arms locked tight around him. Bucky loved both. And he misses both. Every night he tosses and turns, punches his blanket into a vaguely human shaped form and hugs it close to him. But it doesn’t help. Because it’s just a blanket, and not Steve. Not another warm body, holding him close, lips pressing soft kisses to his chest and neck before he went to sleep. Nothing. 

He sometimes wakes up in the morning and reaches across the bed, only to find cold sheets and no Steve. On those days it’s hard to get out of bed at all. His job allows him to work from home, so on those days he calls in to give his boss a heads-up that he’s not coming in that day, and props himself up against the headboard, a tablet with his laptop and some papers to make sketches or take notes on in his lap. Sometimes he gets up beforehand to get coffee, sometimes he even makes food, but on those days more often than not he forgoes those and just starts working, only stopping when his stomach starts rumbling so loud it becomes interruptive. 

It’s been since before the breakup, that he went out to a bar. Somehow, today he just couldn’t stay cooped up in his apartment anymore. Earlier today he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and at first he didn’t recognize himself. He’s gotten thinner in those few weeks, for one. His skin is paler than normal, which made the huge eye bags under his eyes stand out even more. It was kind of a big shock, seeing himself like this. He didn’t actually think it would get bad like this, but earlier, when he stared at his exhausted figure, he knew he had to change things.

So, in a spontaneous decision, he took a quick shower, dressed in something other than oversized hoodies and sweatpants, and left his house, determined to sit in a bar for at least 30 minutes before he would go back home. 

That’s how he ended up in _The Tipsy Cow_ , nursing his beer in the back, staring at Steve. 

He’s near the entrance, in a booth with a pretty redhead. Bucky wonders if Steve has moved on already. Which makes a sudden spark of anger fly through his body. Steve said that he couldn’t find himself while in a relationship. That he felt like whatever he would figure out would always be tied to that person, that he had to be alone, single, to find out who he was. At the time it seemed like a valid reason for a breakup, but now that Bucky thinks about it again, he realizes how dumb that actually sounds. Just because someone is in a relationship, doesn’t mean that they can't figure out personal stuff without that being related to their partner. Bucky wonders if Steve just bullshitted himself out of their relationship, if he had his eyes on someone else and just wanted to get out. 

Bucky wonders for a moment if he should walk over to their table and ask Steve, but then he remembers how sincere Steve seemed when breaking up with Bucky. And Bucky has known Steve for a long time even before they got together. He knows that Steve would never lie to him, especially not about something so serious.

So he stays in his booth in the back, takes another sip from his beer and frowns at the stale taste. He absentmindedly picks at the splintering wood of the table he sits at, drawing lines into the soft-grown wood with his fingernails. 

He doesn’t know how he feels, seeing Steve again after weeks of no contact. He’s a little relieved that Steve seems to be doing well, but at the same time he feels weird to see him again. There’s a stingy feeling in his chest, and he realizes to his dismay that he still has feelings for Steve. He buries his head in his hands and groans. Of fucking course he still has feelings for Steve. He doesn’t know why he didn’t realize earlier, with all the moping he did, but now that he sees Steve again for the first time since the breakup, it hits him like a freight train, travelling through his chest, towards his heart, wraps itself around it and squeezes tight. 

Suddenly his eyes burn with unshed tears, his breath quickening. He knows he has to get out of here, has to leave and go to his apartment before the panic attack fully hits, but he can’t bring himself to move. Because leaving would mean to walk through the bar, walk past Steve, who would surely recognize him, would try to stop him and ask how he’s doing. He’d rather stay here, in the back of the bar, and try to get the panic attack under control. He’d rather sit here for hours and wait for Steve to leave first. 

He is so immersed in his head, in his feelings that were always there, just resurfaced now, that he doesn’t realize a person is walking up to him. He doesn’t notice them come to a stop next to his table, doesn’t notice the shaky breath they take. Not until the person sits down across from him, reaches out with a hesitant hand that carefully wraps around his wrist, not tight at all, not restricting. Not until the person speaks and Bucky lifts his head to stare at Steve across from him, eyes big and sad, mouth open as he talks. But Bucky can’t hear him, just continues to breath fast. Only when Steve says his name does he start to come back, does he process who is sitting across from him, staring at him with fear, love, sadness all visible in his eyes.

“Bucky?”


	2. Chapter 2

At first Bucky doesn’t answer Steve, just stares at him with wide eyes, vision slightly blurry due to the tears. His skin feels like a livewire where Steve holds onto his wrist; burning, prickles of needles starting under Steve's palm and wandering up Bucky's arm, over his shoulder and chest right into his heart. It makes a new wave of tears form in his eyes, threatening to spill over. There’s a lump in his throat making it hard to speak. Bucky tries swallowing a few times to try to make it go away, but it stays, nestled in his throat.

Steve reaches out with his other hand, softly pries Bucky’s finger off the bottle where they’d been holding on tightly, knuckles white with the force. 

“Bucky, breathe with me,” Steve whispers, voice trembling. 

Steve drags one of Bucky’s hands closer to him and places it on his chest, right in the middle over his sternum, where Bucky used to rest his head every time they napped together or he wanted to hide from the world. 

He feels the warmth of Steve’s skin through the shirt, another wave of pin-prick needles coursing through his body and attacking his heart. He swallows down another wave of tears, can feel his eyes burning, and looks up at the ceiling, trying to prevent the tears from spilling over. He feels Steve taking a slow and deep breath in and out, feels him wait three seconds before doing it again. Slowly, he starts adapting his own breathing to Steve’s, and feels himself calm down, feels the panic attack threatening to burst to the surface disappear again. 

“Thanks,” Bucky croaks out. He clears his throat a few times and tries again. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course,” Steve just says, with so much sincerity in his voice that Bucky wants to cry again. And from the looks of it, Steve would just cry right with him. 

“Are you alone here?” Steve asks after a few minutes of silence. He looks down at their hands still touching and slowly lets go of Bucky’s. Bucky wishes he didn’t, already missing the contact.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, not trusting his voice to handle normal speaking volume. 

“Is there someone who can pick you up?” Steve asks, just as quiet as Bucky. 

He shakes his head. His family doesn’t live close, Sam and Riley are on vacation, and he doesn’t really want to call Tony. 

“Okay,” Steve says, huffs out a breath as if deep in thought. “My apartment is closer, would you be okay with staying the night? I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk home now or be alone.”

Bucky wants to decline, wants to say no, get up and walk away from Steve. But rationally he knows that Steve is right, knows that after a panic attack, or a near panic attack, he shouldn’t be alone in case it comes back. So he nods his head once, eyes still not meeting Steve’s.

“Do you want to leave now?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods once more. Steve makes an affirmative noise and gets up from the seat. He walks around the table to Bucky’s side and reaches out a hand. Bucky stares at it for a moment, struggling between accepting the offer to be helped up or not. In the end, he takes the hand because he knows that after the near panic attack he’s going to be on shaky legs and could use all the help.

He places his hand in Steve’s, carefully wrapping his fingers around the palm. Steve does the same, the touch gentle and soft, as if he wants Bucky to know that he can let go at any time. 

They walk towards the entrance of the pub, when Bucky remembers that Steve wasn’t alone here.

“Natasha?” he asks shakily. 

“Hm?” Steve weaves his way through the crowd, still holding Bucky’s hand in his.

“I saw you,” Bucky whispers. “You were here with Natasha.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “Yeah, but Clint called and she left.”

“Are they-” Bucky starts, but has to clear his throat. He tries again. “Are they together?”

“Yeah, Clint finally managed to ask her out two weeks ago,” Steve says. And then, “You okay to walk? We can get a taxi.”

Bucky didn’t even notice they were outside already. But now he feels the cold air on his skin, feels the wind card through his hair, ruffling the strands around. He looks around, staring at the lit up buildings, at the laughing people. 

“Bucky?” Steve interrupts him. 

“Oh sorry,” Bucky says, eyes still trained on a bright neon sign across the street. “Walking is fine. It’s not far anyways.”

“Yeah, it isn’t,” Steve agrees and starts walking. 

About halfway to his apartment Steve looks down at their still clasped hands. Bucky wonders what he’s thinking, when Steve loosens his hold and then draws his hand back altogether. Bucky clenches his jaw to stop himself from reaching back out to Steve’s hand. He can’t. They’re not together anymore, he doesn’t have the right to hold his hand.

The walk to Steve’s apartment is longer than he remembered, or maybe it’s because he’s so deep in his own head, trying to figure out what’s going to happen now. 

Steve lets them in, and they toe off their shoes in the hallway. For a moment they stand there in awkward silence, before Steve clears his throat. “Do you want something to drink?”

Bucky nods minutely. “Water, please.”

Steve gives him a small smile and walks towards the kitchen. “You can go sit on the couch if you want.”

Bucky decides to do just that. He slowly shuffles to the couch in the airy living room and sits down on the soft cushions. Shortly after, Steve walks in with two glasses of water and hands Bucky one. 

Bucky sips the cold water slowly, trying to drag the moment out. He doesn’t know what to say. Instead he stares at the potted plant next to the TV and tries to come up with a reason to leave. He doesn’t notice Steve shaking next to him until he hears a sudden sob.

Shocked, he turns towards Steve, stares at him with wide eyes and his mouth open in surprise. Never had he expected to sit in Steve’s apartment, on his couch, after they broke up and watch him have a breakdown.

He places his glass back on the coffee table, extends his arms towards Steve, and makes a comforting noise, not trusting his voice to handle much else. And it’s like he doesn’t need to, it’s like Steve understands exactly what he’s trying to communicate because the next moment Steve is in Bucky’s arms, his own wrapped tight around Bucky, face hidden in his neck. 

Bucky gently places his hands on Steve’s back, rubbing soothing circles up and down his back, while Steve continues to cling to him and sob into his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve shakily whispers after he’s calmed down a bit a few minutes later.

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers back. “It’s okay to break down.”

“No,” Steve says. He pulls back a bit, but keeps his arms around Bucky and his head down. “I’m sorry about breaking up with you.”

And that… Bucky didn’t expect that. He doesn’t answer Steve, just blinks at him in surprise. He opens his mouth and tries to speak, but no sound comes out.

But he doesn’t need to say anything because Steve keeps babbling on.

“God, Bucky, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for breaking up with you,” he whispers with a watery voice and fresh tears rolling down his cheek. “I thought it was the right thing to do, I thought I was gonna be okay.”

Bucky keeps on staring and he feels his own eyes watering with tears, a few escaping and leaving wet tracks on his cheeks. 

“I thought it was the right decision. But I was wrong. I was so wrong, Bucky. I’m so sorry,” Steve whispers and presses his face back into Bucky’s neck, another sob wrecking his body. He keeps whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Bucky,” and Bucky can’t help but cling tighter to Steve.

Steve pulls back once more, this time taking his hands away from Bucky’s back, and Bucky is about to panic when Steve raises his hands and carefully puts them on his face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks and lips and chin. He leans closer, presses his forehead against Bucky, and closes his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Buck, I made the wrong decision, I’m sorry,” he whispers and Bucky can’t take it anymore. He lifts his arms, wraps one around Steve’s shoulders, buries the hand of his other arm in Steve’s hair. He turns his head a little to the left and closes his eyes, right as his lips softly cover Steve’s.

Their tears mix, Bucky can taste the salty water, but also just Steve. He presses his lips closer to Steve’s, who lets out a whimper before wrapping both arms back around Bucky and kissing him back. 

They sit like this, for a few minutes, arms tightly wrapped around each other, sharing soft and chaste kisses. Neither of them escalate it, both content with staying like this. They also know they still have things to talk about, they know they can’t just jump right back into a relationship without talking about the breakup. 

After a while, they’re both no longer crying. Their lips are still touching, but they’re not kissing anymore, just breathing in the same air. 

Finally, Bucky pulls back a bit, not out of Steve’s arms, not now that he’s finally back in them. He lifts both hands and draws shaky fingers over Steve’s face, traces the dried tear tracks, his closed eyes, the slope of his nose, and finally his slightly parted lips. It feels like he’s trying to memorize Steve’s face again.

“We still need to talk about the breakup,” Bucky whispers eventually. Steve nods and opens his eyes. 

“I know,” he says. “But can we stay like this? For a little bit longer? I don’t want to let you go again.”

Bucky lets a small smile form on his lips. “Me neither, Stevie.” The nickname just slips out. It was what he always called Steve, back when they were still together, back when everything was still okay. 

Steve lets out a shaky sigh, eyes flitting around the room, as if he’s trying to brace himself for the conversation they’re about to have.

“I just want you to know”-Steve starts, clearing his throat before continuing-”that I regretted it almost immediately after I said it.”

Bucky hums. “Then why didn’t you take it back?”

“I saw the expression on your face.” Steve lets out another shaky sigh. “You had that expression you always get when anything someone tells you goes in one ear and right back out through the other. You had that made-up expression, you looked like you’ve already formed your opinion and I couldn’t change that anymore.”

“Oh,” Bucky softly says. That does sound like him. He knows he tends to shut a conversation out, once he thinks he knows what the other person is saying, what the other person means. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says and pulls Bucky close again. He hides his face in Bucky’s neck. “I said what I said and I’m sorry for that.”

Bucky wraps his arms around him again. One arm around Steve’s back, the hand of the other cradling the back of his head.

They are quiet for a few minutes again, Bucky can feel Steve trying to hold fresh tears back, but a few escape and wet the skin of his neck.

“One thing stood out to me, back when you…” Bucky says, but stops before he can say _’broke up’_. He doesn’t think he can manage to ever bring that over his lips.

Steve makes a questioning noise, but otherwise stays where he is.

“You said that you wanted to find yourself, that you wanted to figure out who you are on your own,” Bucky whispers, face half hidden in Steve’s hair. 

Steve lets out another hum, this one affirmative.

“But, Stevie,” Bucky says and starts carding his fingers through the strands of Steve’s hair. “You can do that with me by your side, too. Just because we’re in a relationship doesn’t mean everything we do is tied to each other.”

“I know that now,” Steve whispers into Bucky’s neck. “I know that now.”

“Would you like to”- Bucky clears his throat - ”would you like to try again?”

Steve is quiet for a moment and Bucky starts thinking that maybe it’s too soon. Maybe Steve is not ready, maybe he needs time to think. Maybe, Steve never wants to try again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers. “It’s too soon.”

Steve makes a disagreeing noise and surfaces from Bucky’s neck. He grabs his face in both hands and looks him right in the eyes. “It’s not too soon, Bucky.”

All Bucky can do is stare at Steve, eyes wide. 

“I really would like to try again,” Steve says with a tiny smile, his eyes still shining with unshed tears, but now Bucky can see a glimmer of hope and happiness in there. 

Bucky lets out a wet laugh. “Me too, Stevie. Me too.” 

They stare at each other for a moment before both leaning in for another kiss. This one lasts longer, is deeper than the kiss before. Steve is the first to open his mouth, but Bucky isn’t far behind. He gently licks into Steve’s mouth, their tongues intertwining, dancing. 

Steve pulls back with a tiny gasp. “I want-”

“Me too,” Bucky answers and leans in for another kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

They kiss for a long time. Sometimes they’re heated kisses, tongues battling with each other, lips interlocking and parting again, before diving back. Sometimes they’re slow, gentle kisses, lips just barely touching, mouths closed. But they never stop. All the emotions of the past few weeks, all the feelings are poured into the kisses. Anger, sadness, and hopelessness, but also happiness and love. 

Steve migrates from sitting next to Bucky to sitting in his lap, wraps both arms and legs around him, keeping him close. Bucky has both arms around Steve, one hand pressing down at the small of his back, the other softly carding through his hair, sometimes fingers tightening and pulling a little. 

Even though Steve is as tall as Bucky and nearly as muscly, Bucky doesn’t find it uncomfortable to have him sit in his lap, neither does he find him heavy. 

At one point, Bucky isn’t sure when, Steve started moving his hips in tiny motions, back and forth, back and forth. Tiny circles that make their crotches brush together, sending a _zing_ of electricity through Bucky’s body. 

Atop him Steve lets out a tiny gasp, and starts moving faster. Bucky lets out a groan and wraps both hands around Steve’s hips, holding him still. He pulls back a fraction, until their lips barely touch anymore.

“Is that what you want?” Bucky asks, can feel Steve’s shaky sigh on his lips. 

Steve nods a few times, frantic little movements that let Bucky know that nothing of the desperateness of the kiss has left Steve. 

“I’m sorry, that was phrased wrong,” Bucky whispers. “Is that what you want right now?”

Steve pulls back some more, looks at Bucky with pupils blown wide, swallowing nearly all the baby-blue of his eyes. He swallows one time, Bucky can see his Adam's apple bopping with the movement, and nods. This time only once, and less desperate, as if to make sure that Bucky knows this isn’t just lust speaking.

“Okay,” Bucky whispers and leans in for another, chaste, kiss. “Let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?”

Steve just detangles himself from Bucky and stands, pulling him up and leading him to the bedroom. 

Once there, he closes the door and pulls the blinds down. He turns the lamps on both nightstands on, bathing the room in a soft and gentle glow. 

Then Steve just stands there, next to the bed and looks down at his feet. He seems uncertain now, unsure of how to proceed. But Bucky knows what to do, how to move forward. He knows what they both need now.

He steps towards the right nightstand, remembers that this is where Steve usually keeps lube and a couple of condoms. He takes the bottle out, notices that it’s still unopened, and grabs a condom. He places both on one of the pillows and draws the blankets down. 

Then he turns around to Steve, who still stands there, staring at the floor. He takes the few steps towards him and pulls him into a tight hug. Steve hugs him back, clinging to him with both arms. 

“Do you still want this?” Bucky asks. He has to be sure that Steve is fully on board with what they’re about to do.

“I do,” Steve whispers into Bucky’s neck. “Please.”

“Okay,” Bucky says quietly. He turns them around and shuffles both of them towards the bed. “Lie down, Stevie.”

Steve lifts his head and leans close, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips. He then kneels on the bed and places himself in the middle, head cushioned on the mount of pillows, arms and legs stretched out straight. He stares at Bucky, who lets his eyes wander over Steve’s still clothed body. 

He gets on the bed, too, kneels over Steve, thighs on either side of him. His hands press into the pillows on either side of Steve’s head. For a moment they just stare at each other. 

Steve tentatively lifts his arms and wraps them around Bucky’s shoulders, pulls him slowly down, until their faces are less than an inch apart. “Please,” he whispers again.

And it’s like Bucky has waited for that because as soon as Steve whispered the small word, he leans down, as if he’s pulled in by a magnet, and presses his lips to Steve’s. It hasn’t been long since their last kiss, but it feels like it. Their kiss is desperate now and filled with love and lust. 

Lips locking and separating again, tongues darting into the other’s mouth, exploring, feeling, dancing.  
Bucky moves, blankets Steve’s body with his own, puts his hands into his hair, holding on tight. 

For a while they just exchange heated kisses, content with staying like this. But then Steve starts letting out small whines, puts his hands on the small of Bucky’s back and pushes down to signal Bucky that he wants him to move. 

And Bucky does, always listens to Steve in bed, tuned in to every little noise and movement Steve makes. He starts rolling his hips slowly and gently, keeps the pace slow, keeps kissing Steve.

Time flies by, and eventually they’re both wearing only underwear. Steve has his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, arms tight around his shoulders. He just holds on while Bucky continues to rut against him in a slow rhythm. 

Their clothes are strewn all over the room that’s still only illuminated by the lamps on the nightstands. A bit of light is filtering through the blinds, creating random patterns of light in the room. 

Bucky stops kissing Steve for a moment, looks down at him right as Steve slowly blinks his eyes open. He seems to hold back tears, and Bucky lifts a hand to gently touch Steve’s face with the fingertips, draws them over the slope of his nose, over his eyebrows, and back down to his lips.

“It’s okay to cry, Stevie,” Bucky whispers. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

As soon as the words leave Bucky’s mouth, the tears spill over. Steve doesn’t make a sound, just lets them run down the sides of his face and drip onto the pillows. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers again and leans down to press kisses all over Steve’s face, licks at the salty tears making their way down the cheeks. 

He wraps one arm around Steve’s shoulders, the other one travelling down his body, hand grabbing at his ass through his underwear, fingers digging into the meaty flesh.

Steve closes his eyes and arches his back into Bucky, arms still tightly wrapped around his shoulders. He hides his face in Bucky’s neck and mumbles something into the skin there.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Bucky asks quietly. 

Steve lets out a shuddery sigh in response, but otherwise doesn’t answer immediately. Bucky knows that sometimes Steve needs time formulating his answer, so he waits, while gently petting Steve’s clothed ass. 

After a quiet moment, Steve drops his head back against the pillow and stares up at Bucky with eyes shining from unshed tears. “Please,” he whispers, and swallows.

“Please what, Stevie?” Bucky asks. He’s smiling down fondly at Steve and leans close, pressing barely there kisses all over Steve’s cheeks, nose, and forehead.

“Please,” Steve whines. “Please get inside me.” He sounds so sweet when he says that and really, how can Bucky resist Steve? Especially when he whines so prettily.

He presses a few more kisses to Steve’s face, lingers on his lips for a moment. “Okay, Stevie.”

Bucky discards both their underwear in a hurry and grabs the lube from one of the pillows on the side. He opens it and coats the fingers of his right hand in more than enough lube. 

Steve lets his legs fall to the side, drawing Bucky’s eyes down to that special place between his legs. Steve’s hole looks just like Bucky remembers it, all furled and pink. The skin around it is smooth; Steve always liked being hairless, liked feeling Bucky’s mouth or tongue directly on his skin. Seems like even after the breakup Steve kept his groin neatly groomed.

When Bucky touches the tip of a finger to Steve’s hole, he hisses and twists his hips away. “Cold,” he whispers.

“Sorry,” Bucky says. He presses gently kisses to Steve’s face while he waits for the lube to warm up a bit. He tries again, and this time Steve doesn’t hiss or twist away, instead he just lets out a relieved sigh.

He slowly pushes the tip of one finger past the tight muscle, soothing Steve by keeping his lips attached to his cheek and whispering endearments and encouragements into the soft skin. 

It takes Steve’s body a moment to adjust to the intrusion; it’s been a few weeks since the last time they fucked. But soon Bucky can feel the walls around his finger relax and slowly pushes further in until he’s up to the knuckle. 

Steve lets out a soft sigh and closes his eyes. There’s a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his arms tighten around Bucky’s shoulders, and he once again hides his face in Bucky’s neck. That seems to really be his favorite place, Bucky muses. 

Together, they slowly work Steve up to three fingers, until Bucky can feel his hole relaxed enough that his fingers can easily move in and out. For a moment, he just keeps on fingering Steve; he always loved that blissed out look on his face when he gently and then more firmly presses his fingers into Steve’s prostate. 

Soon, Steve is writhing under him, pushing back against Bucky’s fingers and making impatient noises. Bucky takes that as a sign that he’s ready, pulls his fingers out and shushes Steve when he whines at the loss. 

Bucky quickly grabs the condom from where he threw it earlier, rips it open with one hand and his teeth, and rolls it onto his neglected dick. He pours a bit more lube onto the tip, gives himself a few quick jerks to spread the lube around.

Steve lifts his head towards Bucky’s, silently demanding a kiss. Bucky complies, obviously, and slowly presses inside Steve at the same time. They both groan into each other’s mouths as Bucky slides in until his balls press against Steve’s ass.

They’re so wrapped around each other, it feels like they’re one big infinite body; intertwined, beginning where the other ends and ending where the other begins.

Steve slides his hands down Bucky’s back and grips his ass, pushing his fingers into the meat. Bucky knows that’s Steve telling him to move. So he does.

He slowly pulls out first, until only the tip is inside, then pushes back in. He repeats this motion a few times, keeping the same slow rhythm while peppering Steve’s face in kisses. 

Soon Steve wraps his legs back around Bucky’s waist and digs his heels into Bucky’s ass, spurring him on to move faster. He takes Bucky’s face in both hands and pulls him down into an open-mouthed kiss. 

Bucky complies, and starts moving faster, pushing in and out of Steve with more and more power, adjusting his angle so the tip of his dick brushes over Steve’s prostate. Steve lets out a series of moans and whines into Bucky’s mouth. They’re not really kissing anymore, just panting into each other’s mouth. 

Bucky wraps one arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him close. He reaches down with his other arm and wraps his hand around Steve’s dick. It’s already leaking with precome that drips down the side and forms a small puddle on his stomach. Bucky swipes the palm of his hand over the tip and then slides it down, fingers forming a tight channel.

By now Steve is reduced to a whining and clingy mess, all limbs wrapped tightly around Bucky. They’ve been together for quite a while before the breakup, so Bucky knows all of Steve’s tells. He speeds his hand up and digs his knees into the bed to get a better leverage at thrusting faster and harder into Steve. 

And just like that, Steve comes between their bodies, covering both their stomachs in come, some even hitting his chest. His ass clenches around Bucky’s dick, triggering his own orgasm. He hides his face in Steve’s neck, gently bites down on the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. Another wave ripples through Steve and he groans into Bucky’s ear.

For a moment they stay like this, clinging to each other in post-orgasm haze, breathing each other in, calming down. Then Bucky reaches down and carefully unwraps Steve’s legs from his waist and sits up on his haunches, softening dick slipping out with the motion. He stretches out Steve’s legs and massages the thighs a bit. They’re probably a bit sore from all the clinging. 

He looks down at Steve and smiles fondly. He looks happy, all blissed out, smile playing with his lips, limbs splayed away from his body, eyes half-lidded. 

“I’m gonna get us cleaned up and then we can sleep, how’s that sound?” Bucky asks quietly. Steve’s smile grows bigger and he nods.

“Hurry up, okay?” he asks. 

Bucky grins and leans down for a short kiss. “Yeah, of course.”

In the bathroom he throws away the used condom and wets a cloth with warm water, wiping himself down before rinsing it and going back to the bedroom, gently cleaning Steve, too. He throws the cloth in the direction of the bathroom and crawls back onto the bed, maneuvering himself and Steve under the blankets. 

Steve immediately cuddles close and pillows his head on Bucky’s chest.

They’re quiet for a moment, but then Steve inhales like he’s gearing up for something important. “What does this mean for us?” he hesitantly asks. 

Bucky tightens his arms around Steve. “We try again, if that’s what you want?” 

Steve lifts his head and sleepily stares at Bucky. “I want that, yeah.” He’s quiet for a moment, but Bucky knows that he’s not done. “It was a stupid breakup anyways.”

Bucky lets out a snort. “Yeah, it was. But now we’re here.” He lifts a hand and touches the fingertips of one of Steve’s eyebrows. “We’re back together. No breaking up over something like this ever again, you promise me?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I promise.” He puts his head back down against Bucky’s right pec. 

“If something bothers you or makes you overthink, you talk to me, okay?” Bucky quietly asks.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees immediately. “Same goes for you, you know?”

“I know,” Bucky says softly and presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head. “Now let’s sleep. I’ll make pancakes in the morning.”

“I missed your pancakes,” Steve mumbles. He sounds like he’s halfway to being asleep already.

“I missed you, punk,” Bucky says fondly. 

“I missed you, too,” Steve whispers. “Jerk.”

Bucky snorts.

Soon after, they fall asleep, tangled together. It’s how they wake up, to sunlight filtering through the blinds. Bucky makes pancakes and they sit on the couch, taking turns feeding each other, while quietly talking about the future of their relationship. They never stop touching each other during all of this, soft lingering fingers here and there, a kiss gently placed onto a patch of skin or lips. While this certainly won’t be the only hiccup, they’re back together now and promised each other to communicate more. Finally, both of them are happy again. And they will be for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! <3
> 
> This has been Anonymous author and Anonymous artist, signing off.


End file.
